


The Epitome of Desire

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: Depths of Desire Saga [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Selkie, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Feels, First Kiss, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, OTP Feels, Protective Varric Tethras, Selkies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26332702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Varric and Maria share their first kiss in the Depths of Desire universe.
Relationships: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Maria Cadash/Varric Tethras - Relationship
Series: Depths of Desire Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762726
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Epitome of Desire

**Author's Note:**

> The art is a commission from my dear friend [Schoute](https://schoute.tumblr.com/) who has done a WONDERFUL job with my OTP and is amazing in all things. Check out her art. You won't be sorry.

Honestly, they needed to be getting back to the Belle Bianca. The sun, dipping below the horizon, still left enough light to see, but it had turned into shades of pink and orange, bright when it hit the water and scattered into golden flecks, but casting the shore of the cove in deep violet shadows. 

But when Maria demanded to check one more of the little hidden harbors on this island before they made their way back, he acquiesced without much more than a complaint that if they ended up sleeping on the shore, she’d be responsible for gathering firewood. It had done nothing to change her mind, but had lifted the corner of her lips into a ghost of a smile.

He so rarely got any of those that he greedily shoved that little smirk into the box within his chest where he kept all the rest of his fond memories of her. The ones she would be startled to find, like their first meeting when she held him at sword point, and the ones she may suspect he cherished, in particular their shared laughter in the marketplace of Antiva city, when it tapered out and they both looked at each other, alone, _lost_ in the moment. 

Sometimes he wondered if magic was the only thing binding them together, but it was a treacherous thought. One based more on wistful wishing than cold, hard reality. So, Varric banished it, and kept nothing but these stolen moments for himself.

“Right.” Maria directed, setting her own oars down. “Here’s good.”

Varric finally dropped his own oars, the muscles in his arms taut and sore. He rubbed at his bicep surreptitiously while Maria stood up, careful of the rocking dinghy beneath her feet. 

He wanted to watch far more than he wanted to admit but this was the third dive of the day, and he knew what the command would be before she even said it. Instead of savoring the glow of her in twilight, he squeezed his eyes shut immediately. "Alright Princess, I’ll just work on my tan up here.“ 

She laughed, but Varric couldn’t even open his damn eyes to watch the amusement dance in her eyes. He heard the rustle of clothing, cotton being discarded, the clatter of weapons she didn’t need, but felt safer carrying. 

His vivid imagination conjured what she looked like, dipped in golden sunlight. In his mind, the freckles on her cheeks mirrored the ones dotting her shoulders and chest. Her plump lips parted around his name, arms reaching to pull him flush against her curves…

The soft splash of Maria vanishing beneath the sparkling water drug him from his reverie in the nick of time. He opened his eyes, a hollow pang of grief replacing the lust in his chest while he looked at the ripples where she vanished. He brushed his hand harshly against his face and let out a ragged breath. 

_She didn’t belong to him._

A mantra repeated near constantly, _especially_ when he found himself alone in her glorious company. In truth, she was his captive, and Varric…

Varric _hated_ it. He hated that she felt so bound against her will, detested that circumstances kept him from setting her free into the sea where she belonged.

Yet, despite his best efforts, he found himself wishing more and more that she belonged with him. 

At least she no longer hated his guts. He’d take the small victory where he could find it. 

He tried to pull his mind to other things, compiling list of needed supplies for the ship the next time they made port, which harbormasters needed the requisite bribes to turn a blind eye to their stolen cargo. Then, of course, the business of checking in with his contacts to see if any hint of Bartrand, _the bastard_ , surfaced while they were at sea. 

Nothing could darken his mood more quickly than thoughts of his backstabbing brother. He opened his eyes, glaring at the shore, but the deepened shadows there jolted him.

Sweet Andraste, how much time had he spent ruminating in his thoughts? His eyes skipped over the still waters of this hidden natural harbor, looking for a trace of Maria beneath the surface. Although he knew she could stay below far longer than any of his crew, there had to be a limit even for her. She had to be approaching it, if not even surpassing it. 

_So where was she?_

His stomach twisted into knots and he reached up without thought to shuck his own coat, although the thought of saving Maria from drowning was laughable. His fingers still dropped to the sash he tucked his pistols into, quickly untying the knots while his eyes roamed. 

Before he could remove his boots, the surface of the water broke next to the dinghy with a tiny redhead heaving for breath, tossing slimy mounds of something into the bottom of the boat. 

And, suddenly, shaking her seemed the better option. He nearly collapsed in relief while she impatiently pushed wet strands of crimson back from her face. She blinked water from her gray eyes and frowned, puzzled, in his direction. "Why are you taking your clothes off?” She panted.

“I told you I was working on my tan.” He lied, flippant and casual, before toeing the mess of saltwater and suspiciously glowing slime with his boot. “Is this what you were looking for?”

“Yes.” She answered, hanging onto the side of the dinghy. “Deep mushrooms. Do we have time for me to haul up more?”

No, not really, but he simply sighed. “If you think you need more, Princess." 

Silence greeted him, which was never a good sign when Maria was concerned. He looked back at her to find her face soft and introspective. She’d told him, once, there was more to this connection of theirs than the horrible chain of command he could yank at any time. Proven in multiple ways, like how she seemed to know where he was at any given time, or the way he ached sometimes in the middle of the night and would leave his manuscript to find her in nothing but her shift and tears pacing the deck. 

He feared, sometimes when she paused to look at him, she really could puzzle out what he was thinking if she just tried hard enough. 

What he didn’t expect next was the wicked grin that stretched her lips and caused his heart to ache with her unexpected loveliness. She glowed, the sun painted her slick skin with the same gold brush that the Maker used to color his sky, water slicked her lashes to points and brought a flush of pink under her freckled face. 

"You were going to dive in and rescue me, weren’t you?” She taunted, pressing closer to the side of their tiny vessel. “Cause I was taking too long for your ulcers?”

“Wouldn’t that be a laugh?” Varric asked, trying far too hard to maintain that casual facade. “My ass drowning while you dug out whatever this shit is?" 

Another beat of silence while her smile faded and she considered him again, but without the trace of wariness that usually lines her features. "Varric?”

She hardly ever called him by his name, it was almost always captain or surfacer in various tones of scorn. The sound of it made him lean precariously over the edge of the boat, closer to those pink lips. “All ears and chest hair, Princess.”

One of her hands clung to the edge of the wooden hull, but the other lifted to his jaw, tipping his chin down with the slightest pressure. Varric’s breath caught in his chest when her eyes fastened on his lips. 

His hand moved without his permission, reaching to cradle the sleek hair plastered to her head, heavy and cool in his palm, drawing her closer when she pulled herself up, a pull too strong to resist. 

He chanced leaning forward further and was graced by the gentle brush of her lips against his, tender, sweet, hesitant. He froze, unwilling to break the moment, even as he ached to pull her closer. 

_Maria_. Maria kissing _him_. Maybe he died of boredom waiting for her in this boat all day after all, and this was his reward from the Maker.

She pulled back too soon, eyes closed so he couldn’t see any of the emotions he felt certain shined in them. 

“Maria…” he began, uncertain where was going.

“Thank you.” She breathed quickly, releasing her hold on him and the boat at the same time, and vanishing beneath the sea in a swirl of bubbles.

He didn’t know whether to start cursing or dive in after her, chasing his desire to the very depths of the sea.

**Author's Note:**

> FINE DWARVEN CHEST HAIR DIRECT FROM KIRKWALL AT [@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold](http://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com)


End file.
